Blood Red Synnes
by The Bud
Summary: Part Four of Crimson. and a side story between this and The Displaced French Man. Some of my very early work.
1. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer:  
  
I Don't Have any rights to this story and sueing me isn't worth your lawyers fee.  
  
  
  
  
This is part four of the "Crimson" line, Remy lovers beware.  
  
  
  
  
  
Blood Red Synnes  
  
  
  
His eyes are the colour of warm and running blood. They stare with intent concetration  
  
  
  
at the road ahead. A storm is comming and a small wind has kicked up towards the west that billowes  
  
  
  
his long, and worn trench coat behind his lithe frame. His hair is a darker red,  
  
  
  
as an aged life's fluid spilled long ago.  
  
  
  
He waits.  
  
  
  
She has been regarded as the highest royalty and the lowest theif in  
  
  
  
her life. Even more strange than that of the stark contrast between her  
  
  
  
smoothe and radiating brown skin and her snow white hair is, that she has  
  
  
  
at most times been regailed as both. She recieved word an old friend   
  
  
  
had wanted to see her. She hopes, to talk. Her long legs carry her down the old  
  
  
  
New Orlean street and her heels click with each passing step. Most women would  
  
  
  
fear the dark streets and allies. This is not most women.  
  
  
  
He waits until she had just past him before leaving the cove he was stationary in.  
  
  
  
It is a hard thing, near to be impossible to surprise this woman, whose  
  
  
  
every move has been formed by countless battles whose poise is that of a delicate shower  
  
  
  
but, he manages to do just that.  
  
  
  
" By the light, Remy!" Ororo exclaimes " I had not expected you to do that!"  
  
  
  
Remy, Gambit just smiles his half cocked grin. It is a trait of his  
  
  
  
mutant ability of charm. The one that makes you trust him. A mistake at best  
  
  
  
and deadly at worst.  
  
  
  
  
" Knew ya'd come, Stormy." Remy replies.   
  
  
  
  
"I am still your friend, Remy." Ororo's instincts are on  
  
  
  
fire. She knows that there is danger wafting in the air, Louisianna  
  
  
  
is full of danger, It has surrounded her, thrilled her and captivated her  
  
  
  
attention for the two days she has been here. Part of what Storm thrives on.  
  
  
  
  
" Non." Remy replies shaking his head. " Gambit got no friends."  
  
  
  
  
" By the heavens Remy, had that been true, I would not have come to talk when you aked!"  
  
  
  
Storm is worried for her former team mate. He is strange, even for him.  
  
  
  
Something is not right.  
  
  
  
" Gambit no ask you here to talk." Remy says as he brandishes a Guild Knife.  
  
  
  
" Gambit here to kill you."  
  
  
  
  
He throws the first hit and misses. A warning shot.  
  
  
  
" By the Light, Remy, If it is Storm you wish to face, A storm you shall get!'  
  
  
  
Lightning changes her from Ororo Munroe, Super model into Storm,   
  
  
  
A being in control of the elements around her. Her first shot doesn't miss.  
  
  
  
Remy is down. she forgets the first rule of combat in worry for her friend.  
  
  
  
  
"By the heavens! Remy are you well?!" She cries as she bends to check him. Her first blast  
  
  
  
was more than she had wanted.  
  
  
  
  
She recieves her answer in the form of a burning fire in her gut.  
  
  
  
  
" Ya shoulda known better Stormy." Remy say's as he charges the knife.  
  
  
  
  
"What are you?!" Storm askes between retches of blood   
  
  
  
  
She recieves no answer save Gambit's whisper that tickles her ear.  
  
  
  
  
"You could have been delicious, Stormy" He wispers in lovers tones  
  
  
  
as he twists the knife, breaking bones and tearing flesh.   
  
  
  
For a moment, nothing happens. The long minute before the kenetic energy  
  
  
  
reaches the point of explosion, is silent. Storm is already dead, Remy  
  
  
  
walks away with new blood staining him. Storm's lifeless body desinegrates  
  
  
  
and is gone by the time the knife's energy booms outward.  
  
  
  
A fresh wind catches Remy's coat and hair as they billow outward behind him.  
  
  
  
A storm is comming and he lights a cigarette. "Gack..I gotta quit dem t'ings,  
  
  
  
dey kill me one day."   
  
  
  
  
The Cigarette is left to burn on the ground behind him, the fire blinks and  
  
  
  
fades out as the street returnes to darkness. 


	2. Chapter 2

In layman terms, I don't own this. I'm begging you, whomever you are, not to sue me.

Yesterday

He yawned wide mouthed, not because he was rude, or should I say, not just because he was rude, but because he liked the feel of the cooled summer night air on his teeth. His eye- teeth were just slightly longer than a normal humans and just a little sharper, but that's just the casual observation. It's what he wants you to see.

His long, iron red hair is swept out of his face as he inhales another lungful of his clove cigarette with sensual flair that would have sent any on looking women, and maybe a few men, swooning. His worn and almost pitifully tattered brown leather trench coat floats and billows on the night air behind him almost effortlessly.

He's hungry tonight and is looking for a meal, but rather than step into one of the dimly lit cafes littering Bourbon street for a bite, he follows a meal walking the street. His red on black eyes watching her every darting move as she bounces between people trying to find someone to buy her aging wares. At last, she turns back to head to her post and comes to him.

"Do tell me, kind sir, do you require a belle to take to the ball?" She whispers in a desperate, drunken slur. Her very body language screams that she hates herself for having to do these kind of things, perhaps just to drink, but her eyes try to relay a different story. Remy, however can see right through it. Any other man would have felt pity, but Remy has long ago done away with that weakness.

He has seen eyes as hers before and has known the pain they hide. He saw it in the girl he saved to become the monster he is now, and he saw it revealed briefly when he struck down Storm. She pleaded with those pain filled eyes before she died.

"Oui." He replies simply as they walk to the stairs to her apartment. The room is dim, only lit by the neon signs outside the window. She offers to light some candles, but he has other plans. He charges one of his playing cards, casting an eerie pink pallor glow on his sharp handsome features.

"How did you do that?" She asks breathless as she effortlessly rolls off her torn fishnet stockings and presses her tired body to his. As his hands touch her, they seem to drain her energy, her very essence as she gasps harshly when his teeth meet her neck.

He's done in minutes; the woman never felt much pain as her pale body slinks to the floor. He wipes the small trickle of blood seeping from the corners of his thin mouth with a stale piece of baguette the woman had left on her dinner plate and consumes it.

It wasn't much, and all too tainted with alcohol, but it will have to do until he can get the energy he knows will sustain him, thousands of miles away in New York. He also knows that to achieve this, he has to kill a man who's cheated death more times than Remy had lived.


End file.
